


The Sight of a Scribe

by charliechick117



Category: The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-28
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-03 21:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/702716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charliechick117/pseuds/charliechick117
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ori wasn't blind nor stupid.  He saw plenty of things on the quest for Erebor and he knew how the company viewed him.  He didn't mind.  Ori saw the company in their purest states, when they thought no one was looking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sight of a Scribe

**Author's Note:**

> Vaguely related to a poem in my collection (chapter 23).
> 
> Very brief mention of rape (used as a threat).

Ori put up with a lot on the quest for Erebor.  It was okay, though.  He was used to it.  He was used to Dori babying him and Nori always calling him "little".  He was used to being pushed to the side, to being forgotten.  The only reason he was on this quest was to write it down.  He was the scribe.  He was supposed to sit quietly in a corner and write and observe and be Out Of The Way.

He made the unfortunate mistake of standing up during dinner at Bilbo's house and showing how Not Scared he was, but Dori pulled him down and hushed him up.

So Ori stayed in the shadows where he was supposed to be.

But that didn't mean he wasn't paying attention.

After all, Ori was the scribe, it was his job to pay attention.

He first realized that his observations, his words, could be a weapon when he saw the moon eyes Bofur was making towards his brother.  At first, Ori just brushed it off.  Bofur was a friendly dwarf and Nori had a tongue of silver, it was natural that they should fall in line.  It was in an abandoned farmhouse when Ori saw and realized that there was much more than friendship on the line for them.

Nori ran up with his bowl for an extra serving.  Ori was certain Bofur would send him away (like he had Bombur) but instead filled the bowl to the brim with a warm smile and the promise of a good smoke afterwards.  Ori's mouth dropped and he scribbled into his book.

Then there were trolls and orcs and wargs and running and it was in Rivendell when Ori noticed that no one else noticed Nori and Bofur's budding relationship.

"Dori," Ori called his ever-observant brother towards him, "don't you think Bofur and Nori are rather close?"

"Bofur and Nori?" Dori scoffed.  "You're just seeing things, Ori."

Ori pouted.  He sees things, yes, but he always sees the truth.  He paid special attention to Bofur and Nori's interactions from then on.  They were as close as ever.  Lingering touches and soft gazes.  Occasionally the two slipped off in Rivendell, only to come back pleased and smiling.  Yet Ori noticed that they kept these interactions hidden.  He saw them walk away in the afternoon, holding hands, but no one else noticed.

Why, Ori was the only one who noticed it!  Ori pondered on what that could possibly mean when they left Rivendell.  There were a great many reasons for Bofur and Nori to keep the relationship a secret.  Dori surely would throw a fit.  Bifur might have some words to say about Bofur's honor.  Thorin would certainly demand that this was a Very Important Quest and there was no room for romance.  But they never hid it when Ori was around.

Then Ori remembered, as they made camp in the Misty Mountains.  He was a scribe.  He was little, baby, innocent, Ori.  He was harmless.  He would simply have to prove them wrong, wouldn't he?

"Excuse me, Bofur?" Ori came up to the toymaker, fidgeting with his mittens just so.  "Could I speak with you for a moment?"

"What is it lad?" Bofur smiled at Ori brightly.

"Not here," Ori said, looking at Nori.  "It's a... private matter."

"Sure thing," Bofur said agreeably, following Ori a little ways away from camp.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Ori dropped his hands and put on his best stern face.

"What are your intentions towards my brother?" Ori demanded.

Bofur blanched.  "What d'you mean?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Bofur," Ori said shortly.  "I've seen the two of you.  Holding hands, sneaking off.  You may have the rest of the company tricked, but I've been watching and I don't know if I like it."

"Listen- it's nothing," Bofur said.  "We're good pals, is all."

"Good pals don't go for a tumble in Rivendell," Ori snapped.

"Well-"

"You take good care of him," Ori said, walking into Bofur's personal space.  "You hear me, toymaker?  You look after Nori and you keep him safe and out of trouble.  You bail him out of prison and you never, ever, let him go, you understand?"

Bofur loomed over Ori, his eyes glinting.  "And what are you going to do about it?"

"I'm writing the account of the quest," Ori simply stated.  "Do you want me to write you as a foolish and cowardly toymaker?  I could chose to blot your name completely from the quest and none would be the wiser."

Bofur's face paled as Ori's words sank in.

"More than that, I've got a very good diary, complete with drawings, of your various moments with Nori.  Wouldn't want that to end up in the wrong hands, now would we?"

Bofur, now sweating faintly, nodded.  Ori put a bright grin on his face and flounced back to camp.  No one even batted an eye.

After that, Ori kept a very special eye out for anything unbecoming in the company.  Someone might call it blackmail, but he called it insurance.  It was a sure way of him getting what he wanted.

He took note of Gloin and Oin's stiff brotherhood.

He watched as Balin would sometimes stay up past the watch change, looking at the sky and praying for answers from Mahal.

He kept a very careful eye on Fili and Kili and their Secret Relationship.

He paid attention to Bombur and Bifur and the way they looked out for each other.

He noticed the way Thorin's eyes seemed to linger on Bilbo a little bit longer than needed.

He saw Dwalin eye Dori with admiration, or was that lust?

(Lust, definitely lust).

Yet no one bothered paying any attention to little Ori.  No one cared about Ori's scribbles or his notes.  They didn't care when they got to the Carrock and he took a very careful sketch of Bilbo and Thorin's hug.  They didn't mind that Ori sat on the shore of the river and wrote careful notes on the way the company interacted with each other.  They hardly noticed him at Beorn's house, writing and writing some more.

Ori noticed everything at Beorn's house.

He noticed that Thorin insisted Bilbo share his room.  He noticed that Fili and Kili often went up to the hayloft on their own and came down with flushed cheeks and smug smiles.  He noticed that Dori and Dwalin seemed to spend a lot of time ouside training (but Ori never went to look).  He noticed that Oin and Gloin wouldn't sit beside each other anymore and would only share the most stilted of conversation.  He noticed that Balin spent a lot of time looking out the windows at night, still praying for hope.  He noticed that Bofur started coming to meals with a small knot of thread in his hair that was barely visible.

His journal was getting thick with notes and drawings.  Little things he could use to get what he wanted later.  A sketch of Fili and Kili sharing a swift kiss.  A doodle of Oin and Gloin in a heated shouting match.  A drawing of Thorin looking at Bilbo.  A note that Bifur gave his extra food to Bombur.

By the time they reached Laketown and the Lonely Mountain loomed over them, Ori thought it was time to check in these notes for security, safety, and promise.

He went to Dwalin first.  Family is always most important.

"Mister Dwalin, sir?" Ori looked up at him with the perfect wide eyes.  "A word, p-please?"

Dwalin grunted and let Ori lead out to the back of the house they were staying at.  Once away from everyone, Ori lifted his book.

"I have a bit of a transaction to make with you," Ori straightened his back.

"Transaction?" Dwalin repeated.

"Yes," Ori nodded.  "Considering your relationship with Dori, I figure it would be best to get this over with before the dragon gets to any of us."

"What are you talking about?"

"Your relationship with Dori," Ori repeated slowly.  "I approve, naturally.  Dori's always wanted to be high in status, and I have no doubt you'll give that to him.  But there is the small matter of what happens to _you_ , should you choose not to wed him and give him those luxuries."

"I-but-" Dwalin stammered.

"There is a very long list in here," Ori tapped his book," of all the incidents in which you and Dori had been less than careful with your relationship.  Should any harm come to him, any at all, I won't hesitate to publish them."

"That's nothing," Dwalin waved his hands, though his eyes flickered from the book to Ori's face frantically.

"And then I'll proceed to tell the tale of Erebor and how brutish you were," Ori continued.  "I could tear apart your reputation by altering a few sentences in this book."

That did it for Dwalin.  His face grew red and his fists were clenched.  Ori smirked.

"All you have to do is marry Dori, keep him happy and safe, and you'll be an honored hero."

Leaving Dwalin to his thoughts, Ori swept back into the house.  Next were the Princelings.

Fili and Kili were, predictably, in their room.  They'd hardly left since they got to Laketown.  Any other time, Ori would have knocked, allowed the boys time to get dressed and presentable, but it would hardly matter after this.  He pushed in through the door.  Fili and Kili were, indeed, a tangled mess on the bed.  At the sight of Ori, they gave a shout and jumped away from each other.

"I-I'm sorry!" Ori stumbled over his words, letting his cheeks flush.

"No, it's fine, Ori," Fili said, pulling his breeches on quickly.  "Was there something you wanted?"

"I could come back another time," Ori looked down at his shuffling feet, knowing exactly what Kili was going to say next.

"You're already here, just tell us."

The brothers were standing right next to each other and Ori took a hesitant step forward.

"There's a promise, I want from you," he said.  "After this whole fiasco with the dragon, I want you both to promise that you won't lead on any girls."

"What ever do you mean?" Fili asked.

"You both flirt with girls every chance you get," Ori pointed out.  "There was Tauriel and there's all the maids in Laketown you've made eyes at.  I don't want you to do that in Erebor."

"What I and my brother do is no concern of yours, scribe," Kili snarled.

"It is when you become the princes of Erebor," Ori countered.  "Any dwarf woman worth her gold is going to be trying for your hand in marriage.  And a fair few men, I assume as well."

"I still fail to see how this has anything to do with you," Kili said.

"I don't want to see anyone else's hearts get broken like mine was," Ori said.  "I don't want to see hopeful suitors be turned away because you two are wrapped up in each other.  So I ask that you turn them all away before they get the chance."

That shocked them both.  Ori couldn't help but smile smugly.  He had once been interested in Fili, and he would be lying if it didn't hurt to see the beauiful golden prince find love in Kili, but Ori was nothing if thoughtful.  The pain and interest faded quickly when he saw how enraptured the brothers were with each other.  He didn't think any other potential suitors would believe that.  Really, Ori was doing this for their own good.

"If you don't, then I'll be sure to tell your uncle of your relationship," Ori said.  "I'll spread the rumors of your incestuous relationship and the Line of Durin will be forever shamed.  I have more than enough proof, and more than enough power, to ensure that."

The princes stared at Ori with jaws on the floor and eyes popping.  They gathered themselves enough to give a nod and Ori was out of the room.

He spent the next day keeping a watchful eye on Dwalin and the Princelings, to make sure they kept their end of the bargain.  At breakfast, Dwalin presented his family crest to Dori and they began their courting properly.  Dwalin gave a small glance at Ori and he nodded his approval.  Fili and Kili didn't flirt with the girl who brings their food and they both looked Ori worriedly.  Ori gave a small nod and a gentle smile.

Flipping through his book, Ori wasn't sure who to go to next.  Bombur and Bifur were simple toymakers.  They had nothing to offer.  They, unlike the rest of the company, were only concerned for each others safety and ensuring Thorin made it to the Lonely Mountain.  They were good, honest, dwarves.  Ori would make sure to embellish that in the book.  Oin and Gloin had reconciled whatever differences they had during the quest and were on friendly terms again.  Balin continued to be elusive and cynical and Ori had nothing he could possibly want from Balin other than the friendship they shared.

Which only left Thorin Oakenshield.

Ori walked up to the estranged King after dinner, tapping him on the shoulder, looking at his mittens and muttering softly that he'd like to have a word.  Thorin, naturally, bought the act and took Ori to the balcony of the house.  Ori didn't miss the concerned look Bilbo gave, or the reassuring nod Thorin gave back.

"Is something wrong?" Thorin asked.

"Nothing at all," Ori said, "at least, not yet."

"How do you mean?"

"I mean you're going to have to send Bilbo into the mountain," Ori said simply.  "He's the burglar.  He will have to go in first."

"No," Thorin shook his head.

"That is his place in the company," Ori argued.  "We all have our places, Thorin, and Bilbo's place is to go into the lair.  That is why he's here.  I understand-"

"No, you don't," Thorin snapped.

"He's your lover, I understand," Ori brushed past Thorin's statement.  "You care for the little hobbit, but look at all the things he's done!  Facing down spiders and goblins and the escape from Mirkwood, he can face the dragon too."

"And what if I don't let him?" Thorin asked.  "What could you possibly do to me if I choose to keep Bilbo away from the dragon?"

"I could take him back to the Shire," Ori said.  "I would write you as a tyrant, worse than your grandfather.  I could run back to Ered Luin or to the Iron Hills and give word that the blessed King Under the Mountain has taken a little hobbit for a consort.  I could say that Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, cared more for gold and a long lost home than he did his own people.  I could tear you apart, Thorin, with a few simple words."

Thorin reached forward and grabbed Ori, shoving him against the wall.  "You wouldn't dare, scribe.  I hired you for this quest, I can leave you behind."

"And I would tell all I knew about this moment," Ori said, his voice calm.  "How Thorin, in his anger, took me against my will."

"You-" Thorin stopped for a moment.

"Think about it, Thorin," Ori pushed him away gently.  "All of our people know I was hired by you to scribe the journey.  Anything I choose to say would be truth to them."

Ori watched as Thorin thought it through.  He was trying to find loopholes, trying to find a way to not let Ori get the upper hand.  Ori saw the moment Thorin's resolve failed him.  Those mighty shoulders slumped and he looked down at the ground, the very image of humility.

"What do you wish?" Thorin asked.

"First, I ask that Bilbo do his part," Ori said.  "I've seen him.  He will do you proud, Thorin.  Second, I want you to oversee the wedding between Dwalin and Dori, make sure my brother is cared for.  Third, Nori's marriage to Bofur as well and don't kill him.  Make him Spymaster or something.  Fourth, do not pressure your nephews into marriage.  I'm sure they'll come to you in their own time, but just know that they have no interest in romance."

Thorin looked shocked at the list that Ori gave, but he nodded without question.

"Finally," Ori said with a small smile, "you will give the library of Erebor to me."

"The whole library?" Thorin asked with a small voice.

"Every scroll and book," Ori nodded.  "I will care for them and restore it to it's former glory.  If all this is done properly, then you shall be the greatest king of Erebor.  I shall write you as the legendary King Thorin Oakenshield who drove the dragon from Erebor."

Thorin's eyes gleamed at the title and he nodded again.

Ori, content that his brothers would be looked after and with the promise of his own library, looked at the Mountain with eagerness.  As long as he kept his book close, his heart even closer, and his eyes ever watchful, he would never want for anything.


End file.
